Seasons: A Time for Change
a poem about the triumph of a Tree
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Enjoy this poem I wrote about the trials—and ultimate triumph—of a solitary Tree as it faces the changes of the seasons.
Excerpted from my light blue waterlogged Mead journal on October 17, 2008
Seasons: A Time for Change
Out in the midst of a long-forgotten field peppered with fallen leaves turned black from the chilling breath of nature stands a lone Tree. It no longer serves to give shade; its limbs empty of life and color; the sun no longer its companion. Its only service now is a reminder of how cold and desolate life alone can be. The wind has been cruel to this Tree. Once a towering majesty clothed with the splendor of evergreen. Now, bare and naked it stands, no signature of beauty remains. A solitary raven glides to land on its wide-spread branches. An ornament that adds no value or appeal but rather gives an even greater sense of void. As if a black hole would be brighter and more homely than the Tree in which it now perches.
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